


Let Sleeping Fools Lie

by Ser_Thirst_A_Lot



Category: Naruto
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Madara is sleep deprived, Romance, Sleepy Cuddles, So is the author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23236207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ser_Thirst_A_Lot/pseuds/Ser_Thirst_A_Lot
Summary: Madara steals Tobirama's fur collar and uses it as a pillow. Tobirama isnothappy about it—until he is.
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 23
Kudos: 360





	Let Sleeping Fools Lie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raendown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/gifts).



> i just wanted fluff, that's my only excuse guys that's it  
> inspired by raendown's [tags](https://raendown.tumblr.com/post/190605675873/lou-random-tobirama-sensei-in-palette-19-from) under a doodle of mine :3  
> annnd kudos to copyninken for the title <3
> 
> enjoy!

Tobirama shivers in the light summer breeze, cursing his body’s inability to regulate its temperature properly. It’s a short walk from the Administrative Tower back to his place, where Madara should be waiting for him, but despite the very tempting promise of a warm embrace, Tobirama still finds himself distracted by one very unfortunate fact.

Somebody stole his fur collar.

Scratch that, someone very _foolish_ person with an obvious _death wish_ stole _his_ fur collar.

He sighs, wrapping Hashirama’s haori tighter around himself, making a note to sift through the chaotic mess that is the archive room again tomorrow, even though he’d searched it (and every corner of the tower) meticulously, to no avail. Tobirama couldn’t stand the idea of his beloved gift—from Hashirama, no less, on his fourteenth birthday—ending up lost in the void.

Not lost, though, Tobirama muses, because he scarcely ever loses track of anything, except for his brother. Stolen.

And it wasn’t Izuna this time; he’d learned his very painful lesson the first time he dared touch and spilled sweetened tea onto Tobirama’s beloved garment. None of his students would do such a thing. His office is warded off from any nosy strangers—and why would anyone need such a conspicuous item anyway?

It doesn’t make sense.

Tobirama slows down as he approaches home, willing the nagging thoughts away and shifting his focus to who would be waiting inside. It was such a new thing, living together with Madara. A shock, really, hitting Tobirama almost before the novelty of a relationship with his once nemesis wore off. But it’s… comforting. Nice to have someone to trust and rely on, someone to bicker and debate with, someone to wake up to every single morning. Tobirama feels happy—which will probably never cease to surprise him—to an extent he’s never quite felt before.

“Tadaima,” he says softly, stepping inside and toeing off his sandals.

There’s no answer. Madara’s chakra is calm and quiet, and he seems to be deeply asleep. Tobirama can feel the simmering heat of it in the living room, and the feeling inevitably brings a smile to his face. He probably looks like the lovesick fool Tōka and Izuna insist on calling him, but he finds that he doesn’t care. Until—

Until he steps into the living room to find Madara sprawled on the couch, _drooling_ on his fur collar, the most peaceful expression on his face in contrast to Tobirama’s dissipating smile and slowly mounting fury.

 _Hours_ , he’d spent, searching for that thing. Agonizing and apologizing to Hashirama, who’d just brushed it off and promised to get him a new one, still not making Tobirama feel any less stupid, and careless, and _bare_ without the familiar weight around his shoulders.

He takes a deep breath to ground himself, closing his eyes and letting his mind supply the most vivid images of the torture he could inflict upon Madara for causing this mess.

The thoughts evaporate in an instant once Tobirama opens his eyes again to the stupid-looking but, admittedly, endearing picture Madara makes, completely unaware of his surroundings and Tobirama’s presence, or the way the flames in the fire place rise and ebb in sync with his breathing, perfectly attuned to the burning energy running through his veins.

“Ridiculous man,” Tobirama says without much spite.

It’s hard staying angry at Madara when he truly deserves it, and now, he finds it almost impossible. The memory of Madara’s tired gaze this morning resurfaces, as do his complaints about an incessant Sharingan-induced migraine that even Hashirama couldn’t heal. Sharing their chakra helped with the pain, as Madara and Tobirama had discovered. Tobirama, though, had to spend the better part of the day in an excruciatingly boring meeting with Uzushiogakure’s ambassador and returned to their shared office only to find Madara already gone to rest at home, his most pressing paperwork completed.

He should have connected Madara’s disappearance with the sudden absence of his collar, really.

And probably shouldn’t leave it lying around if he didn’t want it drooled on.

Tobirama chuckles, shaking his head, and sinks down onto the couch, careful not to disturb Madara’s sleep. He brushes a strand of dark hair away from Madara’s eyes, noting the deeper bags in his eyes and making a point to take on at least a quarter of Madara’s paperwork tomorrow to help him deal with the workload. The impending signing of the contract with Uzushiogakure was taking a toll on everyone, except, it seemed, Hashirama, who apparently possesses infinite amounts of hyperactive energy.

“Mmm,” Madara says as Tobirama’s fingers move to stroke his cheek, “home.” His eyes are still shut, and he only scrunches his face when Tobirama flicks his forehead.

“I am,” Tobirama says. “Home and very disappointed to find that _you’re_ the one who stole my collar, Madara.”

He truly tries to make his voice reproachful. It’s quite the miserable failure.

“Mhm,” Madara agrees, his eyes blinking open halfway. “Meeting. Long.” He sighs. “Missed you.”

“Have you forgotten how to speak in sentences?” Tobirama teases him, ignoring the way his heart skips a beat at Madara’s admission.

“Ugh. Shuddup.” Madara turns away petulantly, burying his face into the soft white fur again.

Well. Since Madara doesn’t seem to want to get up any time soon, and Tobirama still feels the remnant chills of the cool evening outside, and there’s no way his collar is getting out from under Madara’s messy mane without a fight, there’s only one thing left for Tobirama to do. He gently nestles himself beside Madara on the narrow couch, letting the other man wrap his arms around him like he always insists, despite Tobirama being the taller out of the two of them. Immediately, a rush of _firesizzlinghearth_ chakra washes over Tobirama, and finally, after a long, grueling day of work and pointless running around, he feels, warm, safe and perfectly content.

And if Madara’s soft, sloppy kisses to the back of his neck are anything to go by, the feeling is mutual.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for the read! :3
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://louiserandom.tumblr.com)


End file.
